It lived at night — lay heavy foot to stone, and wandered.
Sealed eyes gone blind, and mind to match, and wandered.
Born breath by sun, but now by moon; cold whispers and wandered.
Light palm lent aid, closed fist turned down. It wondered.
A chance to change: turn coal to fire, it pondered.
It took the hand, to walk not stumble,
…and with that light, the Day Man cometh.
(That about sums that up. I feel ready to really write again.)